


Promise When the Lights are Fading

by JehanFerres



Series: The Lives we Got Instead [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Engagement, Fluff, M/M, feuilly and jehan are definitely best friends, if ferre had told courf courf would literally have told strangers on the street
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 06:52:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/876877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JehanFerres/pseuds/JehanFerres
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh God this was never going to work, not even in a million years, but he dropped down onto one knee anyway: "Jean Prouvaire, will you marry me?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promise When the Lights are Fading

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1848pianist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1848pianist/gifts).



> Title comes from The Doctor's Wife (which does not fit with the general theme of the Fic, but it is cute).
> 
> Anyway this is basically silly, self-indulgent fluff written for my girlfriend - it's also a rework of a 100-word drabble which I wrote a while ago but I decided it would be fun to run with and turn into this piece of fluff. Basically it's Combeferre Proposes yeah. ANYWAY pure fluff isn't really my style but still I thought it would be fun to just write a fuckton of fluff for once in my life rather than angst.
> 
> The quotation at the end is the last two lines of Shakespeare's Sonnet 100. It's basically just there because it's cute and I'm not that good at poetry so I don't know that much of it oops.
> 
> Yeah, this counts

This was a bad idea.

Then again, Combeferre was full of bad ideas. This was his worst yet, though. Still, he was trying to come up with reasons this wasn't the worst idea anyone ever had: for a start, he and Jehan had been together for about ten months, and he was so wonderfully aware of just how in love the two of them were by now; it was impossible not to know because Jehan spent every moment they were together saying how much he loved Combeferre, and maybe this was going to pay off - and even if it didn't he'd understand: they had a long time yet (or at least hopefully) and if the time wasn't right it was hardly anyone's fault and nothing significant was going to happen, either way.

He was still terrified, however, because asking Jehan to marry him just seemed to be so ridiculous, even though Combeferre loved Jehan and Jehan loved Combeferre back or so he claimed - and Jehan had expressed interest in getting maried, albeit merely poetic interest. However, poetic interest was better than no interest, and if there was any chance that the man he was in love with was going to accept his proposal then Combeferre was definitely going to make it because it was worth a try.

Combeferre prided himself on his rationality, and Jehan had completely destroyed any attempt he may have been making at that. This didn't bother him at all, obviously - he didn't always have to be rational and calm and Jehan certainly brought out the best part of him and he was always so much happier when he was with him, and this was really the most obvious course of action, even if he was terrified about the action - the past three years had been plain sailing, but only through lack of any rough water during their relationship - however, they were happy, and that seemed like reason enough.

"Étienne?" Jehan had suddenly appeared beside him and taken hold of his hands and even though Combeferre's heart was hammering enough that he was fairly certain Jehan would be able to hear it - however, he lifted Jehan's chin and leaned down to kiss the poet a few times, before Jehan gently nuzzled into his neck; he kissed the taller man's neck for a few seconds.

No time like now.

Despite the fact he thought he was probably going to start hyperventilating.

"Jehan?" Oh God this was never going to work, not even in a million years, but he dropped down onto one knee anyway: "Jean Prouvaire, will you marry me?"

Combeferre didn't quite register the sudden change of altitude - the next thing of which he was entirely aware was the fact that he was flat out on his back with Jehan on top of him, and he would have liked to have made a joke here if he could think of an appropriate one, but he was fairly certain that he wouldn't be able to talk, even if he would have wanted to, because this all boded extremely well for him - Combeferre was still lying with Jehan on top of him (the poet had buried his head against his shoulder), and, although it was a little uncomfortable (because the ground was not exceptionally pleasant to lie on), he was certainly happy.

"Euh... Jehan... is there any chance you could stop lying on me for a moment? Just... I can't breathe properly," he said, slightly abashed, as he gently squeezed Jehan's waist. Jehan squeezed back slightly, but then shook his head.

"No, I'm crying too much," he mumbled, his voice muffled against Combeferre's shoulder. Combeferre leaned down to kiss the top of his head, stroking the poet's hair. "However, that was a definite yes. I was hoping that you were going to ask some time, but I never thought you were going to. And..." He trailed off, then, but Combeferre knew what he was trying to get across and nodded, even though the poet presumably wouldn't be aware of it.

"And now I have, yes," Combeferre said softly. He ran his hand gently through Jehan's hair and nuzzled into him: after a few minutes of cuddling like this, however, Jehan managed to push himself upright onto his knees, and Ferre propped himself up on his elbows. Jehan leaned down to kiss him, smiling as he pulled away, resting his hands on Combeferre's cheeks and kissing him again. He smiled excitedly and rested his forehead against the philosopher's, kissing him again. Jehan smiled a little and took hold of Combeferre's hands. "I... I imagine we should get going," Combeferre chuckled. "You know. Enjolras will probably kill us if we're late."

Jehan nodded and kissed Combeferre's cheek; he got up, and Combeferre did the same. "I... I can't quite believe it," Jehan said, smiling. "I probably won't for a while, either," he said, almost laughing, and snuggling into Combeferre's side as they walked from the park to the Musain - Combeferre put an arm around him, shaking slightly, and Jehan leaned sideways against him, allowing Combeferre to lean down and kiss the top of his head. "Do any of the others know you were planning to do this?" Jehan asked softly.

Combeferre shook his head. "I... I was thinking about telling Courfeyrac and Enjolras - but I wanted to keep it a secret, and..." He laughed softly. "I cannot imagine Courf ever being able to keep something of this magnitude a secret, and Enjolras is Enjolras - I mean, he is my oldest friend, but at the same time he's just... far too busy, and I really don't think he needs to know everything I plan to do," he explained.

Jehan butted his head sideways against Combeferre's shoulder, smiling. "Well, you definitely did a pretty good job. I had no idea you were even planning anything, let alone this," he said, looking up and smiling at Combeferre. "Can you tell I've been crying?" he asked. Combeferre nodded, and Jehan sighed and rolled his eyes, laughing a little.

"Not very much, though - don't worry. I doubt anyone will be astute enough to notice, if you don't want to say anything. What with this rally coming up, and all." He laughed. "I don't know when Enjolras last slept; I very much doubt he will notice if you're there or not."

Jehan made a face and turned to kiss Combeferre. "Combeferre, love, I obviously want to tell them - I just don't want the entire world to know I've been crying." He gently nuzzled against him, brushing his nose against Combeferre's. Combeferre smiled and kissed Jehan.

"Are you two coming in any time sooooooon?" Combeferre stared up and saw Feuilly and Courfeyrac, both obviously rather drunk (which he was fairly certain would irritate Enjolras - but whatever), both of them leaning out of a first-floor window of the café and leaning against each-other, Feuilly with a stupid grin plastered all over his face and Courf sticking his tongue out at them.

"Yes, of course we are," Combeferre replied, mildly sarcastic. "We have news," he added emphatically.

"Ooh, are you getting married?" Courf asked. He was obviously joking, but Combeferre looked, genuinely shocked, down at Jehan, who looked at him in exactly the same manner. When Combeferre looked back up, Feuilly seemed as though he was still trying to join the dots of the conversation currently being had, and Courfeyrac's mouth was hanging open in absolute shock. "Stay there!" he shouted, and he and Feuilly disappeared (Feuilly looked as though Courf had dragged him), and reappeared a moment later, Feuilly looking bleary and puzzled, while Courf was practically jumping up and down on the spot.

Feuilly pretty much instantly cottoned onto what had happened and hugged both of them - he and Jehan went off in the direction of the Musain, Feuilly's arm linked through Jehan's, while Courf threw his arms around Combeferre's neck, talking quickly and excitedly about nothing in particular. The first thing Combeferre actually catches is, "Oh my God I can't believe you finally asked him!"

"Yes, alright," Combeferre said, although he laughed and hugged Courf back.

"So? I expect to hear every detail," Courfeyrac continued, dragging Ferre into the Musain by the crook of his elbow. He went pretty willingly, although he muttered seditiously and blushed - however, he was sat with Jehan on his lap and cuddling him within about five minutes. Courfeyrac laughed and told them to get a room - and after the meeting they did.

They decided to just go directly home after the meeting, however (very little happened and Enjolras couldn't concentrate for long enough to actually do anything - however, for Jehan and Combeferre, going home without getting food was quite rare, really; they would usually go and get food, or possibly even stay at the Musain to eat, because the food there was extremely good, but Jehan wanted just to go home and collapse into bed: Combeferre nuzzled into Jehan, who cuddled sleepily into his fiancé's chest, sitting on the taller man's lap.

Combeferre laced his fingers softly through Jehan's hair once he had fallen asleep, and after a while he leaned down to gently kiss the top of the poet's head, holding him tightly against his chest and sighing contentedly. After a few minutes, however, Jehan woke up, leaning over to kiss Combeferre slowly, smiling excitedly when he pulled away. "We probably ought to go to bed," he mumbled sleepily: Combeferre nodded slightly, kissing Jehan's cheek. Jehan nuzzled into Combeferre's neck, gently putting his hands on the older man's cheeks and kissing him again.

Jehan smiled as he pulled away, brushing his nose gently against Combeferre's, and murmured, "I love you. So much," his lips brushing slightly against Combeferre's as he spoke.

Combeferre kissed him, the very tips of his fingers brushing against Jehan's cheeks as the poet pulled him in closer, and, as he pulled away, he softly kissed Jehan's temple. "I love you too, chér," he said softly.

Jehan's smile was radiant as he whispered, " _Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life,/So thou prevent'st his scythe and crooked knife_ ," against Combeferre's shoulder.


End file.
